


Beauty of the Beast

by KittehBoesternchen



Series: Kuroshitsuji Fairytales [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Eventual Romance, Forced Marriage, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:10:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3825148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittehBoesternchen/pseuds/KittehBoesternchen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A family tragedy, a failing company - Ciel Phantomhive is grasping at straws to keep his head over water. When his mother and aunt try to force him into marrying a man he can't stand, Ciel runs to find himself in an even more despairing predicament. A monster is squatting in his old home, sinister and dangerous and ... strangely useful.</p>
<p>Ciel sets out to leash the beast and use it to save his business, his family name. He might well lose his soul in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Through the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a shameless take on Beauty and the Beast in a modern setting. Enjoy Sebastian in his more raw form :)

Ciel had always wondered what it was his father did there at his desk, day after day, hour after hour, from breakfast to lunch to dinner and even longer. There were papers on the desk, lots of paper, pens, notebooks first and as the child grew older, a phone, a monitor hooked to the humming, blinking machine beneath the huge oak desk. The wood was always polished to a shine, but the glossy surface could not hide the many scratches, dents, imperfections that littered the surface. Ciel had loved that desk, had spent hours beneath it, playing while listening to his father work. 

The desk he sat behind now was a replica. It had the same build, the same color, the same finish…but there were no dents. No scratches. No matter what he did, sitting there, working – now he knew what his father had done all day, after all – he could not exactly remember the imperfections and his hands lacked the strength of raking the letter opener deep enough over the wood. 

It was irritating, to say the least.

Ciel was seventeen, his father gone – along with the manor he had grown up in, burned down in a freak accident he was sure hadn’t been an accident at all. His mother, the ever delicate Rachel Phantomhive, had been at a spa resort, tending to her fragile health and comfort. Ciel had been out with friends. Vincent Phantomhive had burned to death alone. 

It had been a year ago, and the young man was baffled by now how his father had managed to stay sane, keep the business alive. The funds were receding drastically and the firm had been in bad shape for a while; neither Ciel nor Rachel had ever noticed a thing.

“The press is calling it insurance fraud still”, Rachel said, bitterly, from the doorway, hefting the daily paper in her delicate pale hand. It was the anniversary of the death of almost everything she held dear.

Ciel looked up from his work – instead of a monitor, there was a laptop computer on his desk now, perched so he could work on it and review papers at the same time. Beside the hand that held the mouse, tea cooled in a china cup.

“Can you imagine, all this grief and misery and they-“

“I am aware, mother”, the young man replied tiredly. He leaned back and waved her inside for her to hand him the paper; tastelessly splashed across the front page was a picture of the manor burning, garish all-caps letters accusing the noble family of fraud. The article spoke of Vincent vanishing instead of dying, taking all the money and valuables and running. Ciel chuckled drily. Of course the press didn’t know there was little to nothing left to their name. “I’d advise you to stop reading the paper until this blows over.”

“It’s been a year! It should have blown over by now.” She all but collapsed into one of the two chairs in front of his desk. “How are we doing here?”

Ciel shook his head. “Another branch is lost. All that’s left to the business is the sweets branch, and even that…” He sighed. “I was thinking of selling.”

“You can’t. This is your legacy. This was your father’s dream!”

“Well it wasn’t a very thought through dream!”, he replied with heat. “We’ll be bankrupt before the year is out if we keep going like this. Think about what that would do to the family name.” He really didn’t want to see his mother cry, but he wouldn’t sugarcoat the truth, even for her. She shifted on the chair with obvious discomfort on her face. “Your aunt called earlier, by the way.” It could only be Frances – it was always ‘your aunt’ when his mother spoke of her sister-in-law. Rachel’s own sister was always ‘Aunt Ann’. 

“Please tell me she’s not sending Lizzie over again. I don’t have time to entertain her.”

“No, that’s not it.” It wasn’t like his mother to stall…at all. 

“Then what’s wrong?”

“They invited us to dinner. Tomorrow. She was…ah, very adamant about it.”

So that was the reason. While Rachel got along fine with her brother-in-law, Alexis, as well as her niece and nephew, she and Frances just clashed. From clothes to demeanor to the way they led their lives, the two women couldn’t have been more different. They wildly disapproved of each other. “Aunt Ann is coming too, though. And a guest. You should wear your good clothes.”

Ciel made a close-mouthed noise and gestured to himself. Slacks, button-down, vest and tie, he thought himself rather well-dressed already. Spending money was rather sparse, but he appreciated the fact he and his mother agreed on appearances. Rachel smiled for the first time. “Yes, you look lovely, my love. I’m just nervous.” She got up and dusted invisible lint off her skirt. “Just…be prepared.”

**

The next evening, Ciel found himself dressed in what he thought was way too overdressed for a family dinner, so naturally, he was suspicious. His mother was in a sheath dress, with her best earrings and matching necklace, her wheatblonde hair done up artfully; he had chosen his dress shirt and tie to match her colors. The shirt was a little too loose on him, the tie done up too tight to retaliate, the blazer he wore tailored to his slim waist and still too wide. He had lost weight in the last year, he realized. This was the same jacket he had worn to his father’s funeral. “So tell me what’s really going on.”

He could honestly see her gulp; behind the wheel of the car, his red-haired aunt glanced at him in the rear mirror, quick and worried. Rachel, in the passenger’s seat, turned around to smile at him as if he was five years old and throwing a tantrum. “Sweetheart, it’s just…uh…” Reaching over, she took Angelina’s hand, who gave her’s a quick squeeze in support. “Your aunt…invited a suitor.”

Ciel’s fine brows shot up. “Oh. That’s a little….well…”

The two women shared a look that bordered on incredulous. “I thought you’d pitch more of a fight”, Angelina said. “It’s a match that’s both political and beneficial…it’s an old, wealthy family. I think you know them, the Druitts?” That made Ciel make a face. “Ugh, don’t tell me Aunt Frances invited Aleister. He’s nothing but an obnoxious frat boy.”

“He has a doctor’s license”, his mother replied evenly. 

“Mother, he’s way too young to be a good match.”

“He’s twenty-seven.”

“Exactly.”

Rachel sighed and looked at her sister for support – who only smiled and shrugged, but jumped to the rescue. “Ciel, with a match like that, we can save Funtom, without you having to sell anything more. Maybe even buy back the toy section. That would be great, right?”

The young man grumbled, but said nothing more, turning his gaze to the passing landscape. The streets of Belgravia, London, quickly changed to the streets of the countryside surrounding the metropolis. “I don’t see why they can’t just hold dinner at their townhouse. Seems a waste to drive all the way out here.” Naturally, no one answered him.

 

The Midford mansion was as stunning as it had always been…as the Phantomhive manor had been. In many ways, the large country homes had been siblings, similar in build and the shape of the gardens around, just a few short miles in reach from one another. In a way, they were neighbors. One was gone though and being here put a stone into Ciel’s stomach. He got out ready to bitch at his mother once more about how unnecessary this way when something tackled him against the side of the car and grasped him in a chokehold. “CIEL!!!”

Flailing, Ciel shot a look at his mother and aunt, pleading for help and scowled at seeing them just smile. “Lizzie…” he tried to push the slender arms of the girl away. “Choking…not breathing.”

“I missed you so much you never text me back I never know how you are Ciel why aren’t you ever texting me back you could at least call me every now and then?!”

“Do you actually need to breathe?!”

Rachel and Angelina snickered at the squabbling children; little Elizabeth finally wasn’t taller than Ciel anymore, they were the same height now, although the boy was a lot skinnier. 

The cold breeze of disapproval coming from the manor could only be Frances approaching. “Elizabeth. Show some manners.”

The next minutes passed in a blur – mostly to Ciel feeling dizzy from loss of air – and when he did concentrate again, he made out the little crowd that had gathered in the foyer of the great manor.

His mother and Angelina stood to the side, chatting up Ciel’s cousin Edward, who towered over them by at least a head; Aunt Frances was berating Lizzie quietly about her manners; his uncle, Alexis, was talking to a slender young man that was dressed in all white. Ciel couldn’t help a grimace; he even led him over.

“Ciel, my dear boy, I believe you have met the Viscount Druitt before?” Alexis asked genially, loudly, attracting far more attention than Ciel would have liked. Within a moment, all eyes were on the three of them – another suspicious thing. “I have. Good to see you again.”

It wasn’t until Ciel offered the blond his hand and the man smiled at him, lifting his hand to his mouth to kiss the back that the young man realized – this match was not for his mother.

This match had been arranged for him.

He shot a panicked look at his mother, who had the gall to return it sadly before looking away. Angelina likewise. Edward was frowning, Frances as well, and Ciel felt all the blood leave his head and rush down, his heart giving an almost painful thump as he felt dizzy. “No.”

“What do you mean, my boy?”

Dark navy eyes flicked up to his uncle. “Tell me. Why did you invite him?”

Abashed silence. No one moved. Druitt rose his brows and smiled. “Feisty. I like that.” He turned to the Marquis. “I’ll take him.”

“No you won’t. I’m not a…a trinket you can just pass around”, Ciel spat, a ball of anger burning in his throat. Mortified, he noticed tears pricking the corners of his eyes. 

“Ciel…”

“No!”

Yanking his hand from the hold it was in still, he turned, and as fast as his legs could carry him, he fled the foyer through the still open door.

Shouts of his name came after him but no sounds of footsteps, no one running to catch him; and still, he felt as if he was running for his life. He bypassed the little troupe of cars, none of which he had the key unfortunately and skidded down the gravel driveway. A sharp left turn, and he found himself on the path that cut through the forest surrounding the two manors, the one he and Lizzie had played on as children. The one he had been told not to leave, like his life was a fairy tale and he was about to be eaten by a monster.

His life was not a fairy tale – not anymore.

As he ran, chest and throat burning and tears escaping to track down his cheeks and vanish in his hair beneath his ear, it seemed like the forest itself was trying to stop him: twigs scratching at his face and hair, branches in the way poised just so that he had to slow down to get over or around them, puddles to trip his feet. He slowed when he had to, but he never stopped until he broke from the tree line to stand on the gently sloping hill that had once housed a maze made from perfectly manicures hedges. It was overgrown and not at all managed anymore. He wondered idly how everything had gotten out of control so quickly, in the course of a mere year, but all thoughts screeched to a halt as he looked past the shrubbery and got a good look at what had been his childhood home.

Blackened stone, most of it crumbled, only one wing still stood firm. The windows were cracked or broken. The roof was almost gone, even on the intact wing. The gothic gargoyles were black with soot, looking like demons snarling down from their perches. All of a sudden, Ciel was very, very cold. 

Carefully, he went closer. He hadn’t been here since shortly after the fire, when his mother and he and a group of helpers had cleared out what was left of furniture, valuables, documents, the contents of the safes. It seemed even more ruined now. The wing still intact was left of the foyer, where the bedrooms had been. From where he came to stand, in front of the cracked stairs leading to the missing front door, he could see the curving stairway, the tile that had been on the floor of the foyer. Black and white, like a chessboard, it was just black now. Black and dirty.

Thin fingers reached to brush the still mostly intact banister of the stairs, shying away at the last moment as he made his way up the stone steps. All anger forgotten, Ciel stepped inside – if he could call it inside still. It was a crumbling shell of a building no one had bothered getting repaired, not the house he had grown up in. It was rather sad, really. 

He could see the space of cream wallpaper where the large painting had hung over the first landing. A scurrying made him jump, but it was only a critter fleeing from him, deeper into the ruin. Ciel felt watched. It could be the animals that had taken over the building, but it felt different…darker, more ancient. Malicious. 

Hungry.

Where the roof and fundament still stood, to his left, it was dark. Ciel knew this floor would contain the grand sitting room, the entertainment room, a bathroom. Guest rooms. Perfectly safe. He chose that path rather than the crumbling right. 

There was a large spider’s web that clung to his face and hair when he walked right into it. “Oh, ew…” It was sticky on his hands as he pulled it off, and certainly there was still some left in his hair, but he was too disgusted to pick at it now. At least it was gone from his face. 

The entertainment room was as empty as they had left it. The billiards table had been cleaned out long ago, the fireplace was dark and sooty, the furniture gone. It was bigger than he remembered. 

A flicker of light from the left of him took his attention. The door to the large sitting room was open and light came from it, in the likes of…a fire? How peculiar… He was vaguely worried about squatters, but no matter who it was and how long they had abandoned this, this was still his house. He would decide who lived here and who didn’t. Determined, he squared his shoulders…and walked right into his past.

The furniture was as he remembered it, plush and a little outdated and sophisticated, sofas and lounges and the round table in the middle. An armchair stood in front of a merrily crackling fire. Next to it, a small sidetable, and on it…

Ciel’s eyes widened as he came closer and spied perfect brownies on a delicate china plate. And a steaming cup of tea. “What…”

Behind him, the door fell shut with a loud bang, the fire dying as if it had never existed in the first place. Something stirred. 

“Well,” purred a dark, velvety voice, taloned hands grasping his face, palm over his mouth and chin, sharp black claws digging into the soft, creamy skin of his cheeks. “What have we here?”


	2. Be our Guest

„What have we here?“

The nails…no, claws, it had to be claws, no set of fingernails could ever be this sharp and unyielding…dug into his cheeks, hard enough to bruise, yet the needlepoints never broke his skin. Above him, coals of hellfire glowed in the darkness, a mouth opening in a grin too wide, filled with too many, too sharp teeth. Ciel’s pulse jumped and kicked into overdrive; it seemed to amuse the thing. It chuckled darkly, another hand reaching, stroking the back of a curled finger down Ciel’s temple and the part of his cheek that wasn’t gripped so cruelly. “A soft little virgin lamb.” The voice was human enough, but it had a dark, velvet quality that enhanced the mockingly tender tone in which the being spoke to him. “Are so eager to die, daring to come here?”

Ciel knew he should have run, screamed, pleaded…anything. But those words merely made him angry. His temper flared and with a decisive swipe of his arm, he brushed the hands away. One talon came away bloody as it scratched along his jawline. “This is my house. You are trespassing”, he told the thing coldly, chin kicked up. He was a Phantomhive. His business may be crumbling, his fortune decreasing, his childhood home may be ruined – but he would not back down in his own house.

A deep chuckle answered him. “Bold.” It sounded almost admiring. The thing…could be living shadows with teeth for all Ciel knew in this darkness…lifted his hand and licked his talon clean. A shuddering breath followed, possibly to the taste of his blood. Ciel could feel the warm liquid seeping down his chin and neck, but he made no move to wipe it away. Nothing to betray vulnerability.

“Yes. Now. Tell me your name or leave”, the boy replied. The being watched him thoughtfully, silent. Now that he had been in the dark for a while, Ciel’s eyes began to get used to it and he could make out some shapes. The thing was taller than him by at least two heads, with eyes that glowed garnet, talons and fangs and…were those wings? “My name,” the being began, sounding hesitant. “It’s been a while since I had a name.”

Ciel frowned. “So…you don’t have anything to be called. What am I supposed to call you, then, Beast? Big ugly….shadowy thing?” One of the taloned hands shot out to wrap around his neck; the fingers so long, his neck so slender, that the talons clicked together behind him. “Careful, little lamb,” the shadow hissed. “I find your gall amusing…for now. It may change at any moment.” The pad of a thumb brushed Ciel’s full lower lip, dragging it down gently. Ciel used that moment to bite the offending digit. 

A soft hiss that didn’t sound all that displeased and the hand tightening ever so slightly around his throat, the shadow leaned down…and licked the blood from his jawline. “Foolish little mortal. But don’t worry, you have your uses…you’re delicious, for one.” The rest of his spilled blood was lapped up with a wet, sandpapery tongue, drop by drop, until Ciel shivered. The being smiled against his pulse point. “Very delicious.” Needlesharp fangs dragged against the side of his neck down to the spot where it curved into his shoulder. To gain access to that tender spot of skin, his thumb had relocated to the soft spot beneath Ciel’s chin, forcing his face up in the motion. More pissed off than anything, the boy kept still, watching the shadow. “If you wanted to kill me, you’ve had enough opportunities without fucking around like this.”

There was a pause, as if the being was confused by his behavior. Ciel knew why; it wasn’t the behavior of prey. He refused to be prey. He also hoped the thing wouldn’t notice how his hands trembled, finely, where he had clenched them at his hips. “What will it be?” he demanded. The being growled softly, a sound that made Ciel close his eyes despite his bold words…and brushed his face against the elegant curve of his neck in what could only be a kiss, before lifting his head and letting him go. “I do have a name”, he replied to the question finally, stepping back a little but didn’t stop touching him, the pad of his thumb rubbing up and down his throat, very gently. “You wouldn’t be able to pronounce it.”

“Try me.” Ciel prided himself in speaking not only English, but French and Latin fluently, with useful phrases in a dozen other languages. He thought himself quite capable of pronouncing something as easy as a name.

He was wrong. The sound that came from that mouth was inhuman, infernal…a series of hums and growls and clicks that proved to be impossible to imitate. He made the being chuckle again, though. “I am a demon, little one. A human being able to speak the language of hell would be…unsettling, to say the least. Give me a name if you wish to call me by one.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with that.”

“As you wish.” The demon let go of his throat only to pet his hair. “Ah, soft. You’re as delightful as a kitten, claws out and spitting and so adorable regardless.”

Ciel huffed, frowning at the beast. It was obvious this wasn’t anything that belonged on the mortal plane, as ridiculous as he felt dipping into superstitious beliefs. He wasn’t very religious. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t call me…cute.”

“What will I call you then, little one?”

“I am Ciel Phantomhive. I own this house.”

“Yes, you mentioned that. You look exhausted. Sit.” A flick of his wrist, and the fire roared to life as if it had never been extinguished. Still wary, Ciel allowed the demon to lead him to the armchair and sat down in it. He wasn’t sure if the demon was nice to him because he wanted to trick him or if he had seriously impressed the ancient being by not showing fear. He put his forearms onto the armrests, leaning back stiffly, aware of the demon crouching next to him, close enough to touch…close enough to bite, too. It was shrouded in dark as if wearing the shadows, exposing only what it wished to. There was a long silence in which only the crackling of the logs sounded, breaking down under the fire’s heat. It was a soothing sound, really. 

“My mother engaged me”, he finally said, more to himself than to the demon, yet he was aware of the attention shifting further onto him as he spoke. “Without my knowledge.”

“Is that something that is still done? I had believed that was an old custom.”

“It is. It’s bloody medieval. There should be another way. Just because he’s rich…”

The demon laughed. “Ah, mortals. Always chasing after money.”

Ciel gave him an annoyed look. “Money is important. It would feed and clothe my mother, keep a roof over our heads. Rescue my father’s company. I consider myself a decent businessman, but…”

Another bit of silence. Almost gently, the demon pressed. “But…?”

The boy sighed and let his head thud back against the backrest. The armchair dwarfed his slender frame, the fire’s light shifting over his smooth throat. The demon’s eyes were locked on that delicate skin, so easily broken; he could almost smell the essence it contained. 

Delicious.

But this little mortal was not food; there was a complicated mind behind those big blue eyes, a will of steel and iron contained in that small body. It intrigued him, to say the least. Especially the way those plump lips moved when he spoke again, with his dark lashes resting high on creamy pale cheekbones. 

The demon knew desire, appetence. It sat here before him, wrapped up in a frail mortal body. 

“I’m too young for people to take me seriously”, the boy admitted. “And if my father had any useful connections, he kept them to himself and they keep themselves hidden. My company is crumbling bit by bit. My own mother is giving me away like cattle.” A deep sigh left his lips. “I hate that man.”

“The one you are going to marry?” The boy gave a nod. “Unfortunate for you, isn’t it.”

Ciel glared at the demon. “Aren’t you compassionate.”

“I am not made to be compassionate”, the demon replied amusedly, shifting to the other side to offer him the cup of tea. Ciel didn’t even think anything of it, just took it and sipped…and blinked. “This is delicious.”

The demon seemed to preen. “Try the cake.” The boy did, slowly chewing. “Where did you learn to bake like this?”

He was chuckled at again. “One of my past masters delighted in tea and sweets. He made me learn to make his desserts by hand.”

Ciel ate in silence, sipped his tea, contemplated. He was not the type of person to hide until the world went away on its own; he was a problem solver. “I have to go back.”

“I would agree. It’s getting dark out there, you would not want to cross the forest at night”, the demon cooed at him. “I shall see you home safely.”

“Is that standard demon behavior?”

“Not at all, little one. Not at all.”

**

The house, as expected, was still in a state of panic. He could hear his name being called from yards away, the beams of flashlights searching the area. “Well, at least they care enough to try to find me.”

“Such dry words, little one. Of course they worry”, the demon grinned down at him; he’d been floating more than walking next to Ciel on the way home, much more leisurely than his flight earlier. “You’re the little cashcow, aren’t you.”

“The reasons of why you live alone in a ruin are becoming more and more clear to me”, Ciel replied drily, glancing up at his unlikely companion. The demon snickered. “Not many are worthy of my presence, sweet lamb.” Ciel merely rolled his eyes.

They stopped just before the line of trees and the boy looked up at the entity. The demon smiled and grasped his face again, much gentler this time, stroking his soft skin. “Come visit me some time, little one.” He leaned down and brushed his fanged mouth against Ciel’s in a mockery of a goodbye kiss. “You’re always welcome in my home.” He disintegrated with a chortle at the boy’s outraged gasp. 

“That is MY house you’re speaking of!”, he yelled into the forest, cheeks flushed bright crimson. 

He hadn’t expected his first kiss to be all teeth. 

**

To say dinner was strained would be an understatement. Lizzie kept clinging to him, appearing to have cried hat he hadn’t been home before dark. Aunt Frances kept giving him dark looks for his childish behavior. His mother wouldn’t even look at him, rather keeping her eyes on the table. Druitt didn’t seem impressed, either. He kept ignoring him for the most part, speaking to his uncle in his loud, dramatic voice, which did nothing to abate Ciel’s pounding headache.

“You okay?”, Lizzie asked him under her breath, uncharacteristically quiet. Her hand settled on his forearm. “There’s scratches on your face. Did you fall?” There is also demon spit on my face, Ciel thought, giving her a weak smile. “I’m okay. Just a bit much all at once.”

She nodded sympathetically. “Should’ve accepted my proposal when you had the chance”, she smiled nudging his elbow with her’s. Ciel snorted. “We were seven.”

“It was legit enough”, the blonde replied, making her cousin smile. “Yeah. I should have.”

 

A week later, Ciel was supremely annoyed. He woke with a headache and went to bed with one, the dull pounding so familiar by Saturday that he didn’t even notice it much anymore. His father’s liquor cabinet began to look very tantalizing, in fact. Ciel hadn’t ever been drunk before, but there was a first time for everything, right? Like the kiss he’d been given the weekend before…

He shook his head firmly, setting down the pen he’d been playing with. Not a kiss. Never a kiss. Someone without lips wasn’t able to kiss. It had been…a touch. Yes. He could live with a touch. With a sigh, he lowered the hand that had come up to brush his lower lip. The demon hadn’t left his mind once since he had seen him off at the Midford’s house.

Ciel had kept busy by googling all there was to google about demons. He’d stayed up way into the night on most evenings, too wound up to find rest. When he did sleep, he dreamt of glowing eyes and a mocking grin, as if the demon was right there to torment him. Stupid beast, keeping him awake. The stream of information about the inhabitants of hell hadn’t told him anything at all about how to proceed. Demons ate souls. Demons made deals with humans to be able to eat souls. If there was no contract to be had, apparently they were able to eat souls without one. Ciel thought this quite gluttonous. Some demons were fallen angels; others were not. The fallen ones were said to be quite beautiful. All of them could change their appearance, which made Ciel wonder two things – first, how was anyone to know which category they belonged to really if they could just appear as pretty or ugly as they wished, and second…what made someone encountering a demon go online immediately afterwards and post it to Wikipedia?

In the end, he had decided that none of the sources found online were quite trustworthy in his predicament. For all he knew, the demon had put a mark on him with his stupid nibbling and scratching him those few days ago; he just hoped the demon hadn’t followed him and watched him at night when he would remember that encounter and touch himself to the images quite indecently. That beast didn’t need another thing it could hold over his head.

Finally he had decided to catalogue the event as if he’d had an encounter with a predator of the animals kingdom; he’d come close to a lion and survived.

That didn’t explain why he wanted to go back and do it again.

Ciel was by no means a danger junkie. He didn’t get off on rollercoasters, sitting in a car that drove too fast or diving off of bridges with only a rope as security. He didn’t like hiking or climbing. He had never considered himself something else than a bookworm, really, or a shrewd businessman. A good student. The pale kid that stayed home and curled up with a book and a cupcake all afternoon whether the sun was shining or not. The boy no one picked for their basketball team because of his asthma. He was content being who he was.

The fact that he fantasized about too sharp teeth and a too long tongue anywhere near his skin scared him a little.

He leaned his head back, slate-colored hair mussing against the armchair’s backcushion, eyes lazily drifting to the foggy London evening outside of the townhouse’s windows. Night was approaching fast and though his body was bone-tired, his mind wouldn’t shut up. What he thought about, though, instead of…fornicating…with an infernal thing that had no shape at all, was the heavenly cake the same being had given him. It had been perfection. Sweet and chocolatey and moist and so, so delicious…

Ciel startled into a straight position. “Perfection…” His gaze fell to the spreadsheet on his desk, the one with the reclining sales numbers. He knew the assortment of the sweets brand. It contained suckers, candy, little muffins and cakes that were packed separately. It was far from perfect. Even he himself didn’t like the pastries and he rarely ever turned down anything sweet enough.

His fingers found the pen he had set aside before, beginning to draw on the spreadsheet. Before his eyes, quality was created; sophistically decorated small cakes and scones and muffins in elaborately designed boxes. A new design for the wrappers around candy balls and suckers. A new logo. By the time he was done, the grandfather clock in the hall rang midnight.

Ciel sat back, setting the pen down, fingers cramping. This was what he needed to reinvent his business. He needed that recipe.

He had to go back.

And he would eagerly sell his soul to get what he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, so I know this is super early to post a second chapter but I couldn't stop writing and now I can't wait to give it to you :) Also, I love getting your feedback and discussing with you via comments. If you have something on your mind, gimme! <3


	3. There's something there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter just about broke my heart. This is why there are warnings up there; there will be abuse and gore (although in small doses). To make up for it, you'll get fanservice at the end. This is the first time I wrote something this dark, so let me know how I did :) Enjoy!

The air was crisp like biting into a fresh, sour apple this early in the morning in the countryside. Ciel’s sinuses tingled with stimulation as he got out of the taxi cab after paying the driver. He stood in front of the tall, black metal gates protecting the manor driveway from trespassers, listening to the taxi turn, the gravel that had escaped from the grounds behind the gate shifting and cracking beneath its tires. It started down the street, gaining speed as if the driver aimed for putting as much distance between his car and the ruin as quickly as possible. Ciel tried hard not to feel abandoned. He glanced at his watch; it was barely seven. He hadn’t gone to bed at all.

From the moment his little epiphany had struck him, he had worked like a man possessed, researching, sketching until his hand had cramped and he’d been forced to stop for a little while. The results were still thrown all over his desk. All that was left to do…was the hard part. He was pretty sure the damned thing squatting in his old home already knew he was here, too. He felt very watched.

In the jacket he’d grabbed before leaving the townhouse as if the thing was on fire, Ciel shivered; the thin fabric was great for balmy summer evenings. Cool late spring mornings, not so much. Taking a deep breath, he put his palms onto the gate to push it open…only to have it swing open by itself once his fingertips touched the cold metal. 

Okay. That was creepy.

Ciel frowned and started up the driveway. Gravel crunched under his shoes, his breath made little white puffs in front of his mouth. Spiderwebs hung in the bushes and tree branches to either side, little crystals of dew caught in the elegant designs. Pale fog clung to the ground. Ciel shivered involuntarily. Up ahead loomed the blackened ruin, looking like a haunted old castle rather than a once-tasteful manor. Anticipation rather than fear made his throat tight, and that was scarier than everything else.

He didn’t hesitate when he entered the foyer; hesitation would be seen as weakness. “Good morning!”, he called out firmly, almost cheerful…almost. He could feel the atmosphere shift, from dormant to curiously attentive. The shadows to the far left unfurled to reveal the demon’s bright garnet eyes. “Ah. My lamb returns”, he purred, slinking closer. Ciel turned to him and smiled. “Sorry. I didn’t bring breakfast.” 

“Mh, are you sure about that, little one?”, the demon cooed at him, but he didn’t charge. A thin stripe of pale dawn fell on the checkered floor between them, like a translucent barrier. A long tongue trailed over gleaming fangs.

“I’m certain”, he replied steadily, taking a step closer. 

“Did you miss me that much?”

“Would you like to think so?”

The demon chuckled at him. “I’m flattered, little one. Truly, I am.” The amused red gaze turned sharper, predatory. “Now tell me what you came here for.”

“Tea.” Ciel had the pleasure of seeing the demon blink slowly. “Tea?” The slatehaired boy nodded.

“Yes, tea. I liked the cup you gave me the last time I was here. I would like another.”

“Bold”, the demon purred…and smiled. “Come with me.” There was no fire in the fireplace this time as Ciel entered the smaller sitting room, following the moving shadows until he could sit in the armchair again. The room seemed clean and lived-in, different from the rest of the house. “Is this your lair?”, he asked the beast, glancing at the shadows and once again trying to make sense of the shape. It didn’t work.

“My lair? What am I, a grizzly?”, the demon chuckled. “No. I happen to like this room. It’s one of the few that are still whole.”

Ciel leaned back comfortably in the chair as a cup of tea, steaming and complete with saucer and a tiny silver spoon, shifted out from the shadows and was given to him. “Which other ones are?” There was a moment of consideration before the demon spoke again. “A few guest rooms, one bathroom upstairs…your bedroom.”

“How do you know it’s mine?” The demon shifted closer, keeping to the darker parts of the room, until he was right next to him, crouching next to the armrest and beside Ciel’s knee. “It smells like you, little lamb. It’s very…enticing.”

Ciel took a sip from the excellent tea. “If you’re striving to scare me, you shouldn’t keep feeding me comfort food. It’s not working.”

“Fear isn’t the reaction I am going for when I talk about your exquisite body.” The demon chuckled darkly when blood rushed to the boy’s cheeks, the creamy skin so pale it showed immediately. He wanted to lean in and drag his tongue over the apple of the little mortal’s cheek, feel the heat of that blood in his skin. He reached out with a hand that manifested from the shadows, pale and elegant with artisan fingers tipped with glossy black nails. No talons this time; he didn’t want to hurt or scare the boy. A delectable morsel such as this couldn’t be scared away.

Not that the child had shown a lot of fear so far. It was disconcerting as much as it was intriguing.

Ciel squirmed when the hand came closer. Those long fingers crooked so the backs of the knuckles could brush along his warm cheek. He didn’t move away, but he gave the demon a raised brow. “I’m not a toy, you know.”

The demon chuckled, his fingers brushing through kitten-soft slate hair. “If you’re not here to be touched…and I don’t believe you came for tea only…why are you here, truly?”

“I want the recipe for the cake I had the last time.”

“Mh, and what will you give me in return?” That question sent all sorts of chills down Ciel’s spine. It implied so much; danger, thrill, the promise of pleasure and death. Suddenly, he wasn’t quite so sure he wanted to be at the mercy of this being after all. “What would you like?”, he decided on asking, pleased that his voice came out rather firm. A little breathy, but not wavering.

“You.”

Ciel managed a brief laugh. “For a cake recipe? I’m not that cheap.”

“No”, the demon cooed at him, getting closer still until Ciel could feel the heat emanating from the shadows, the promise of a warm body that was just waiting to be formed. The demon stroked his hair from his forehead again, coming close enough to brush their noses together. “You’re incredibly more precious than a recipe. Still. I will have an exchange, or you will not have cake.”

The boy swallowed, but he didn’t move away. This wasn’t all that unpleasant. 

“You may bring me another, if you don’t want me nibbling on your own soul”, the demon offered helpfully, sounding almost eager at the prospect of food. Ciel wondered how long it had been here and why it didn’t just go to get some nourishment if it was hungry. He didn’t ask, though. “Another…person? To eat?” He couldn’t imagine leading someone here to their doom. “Um.”

“I don’t need your decision right now…”, the demon nuzzled his face with his own, almost tenderly, its hand cupping the back of Ciel’s head. “But make it soon. Your business has a few more weeks before you’ll have to give it up, or it will drag you down along with it like a sinking cruise ship.” 

Behind him, the rising sun tossed its first rays of direct light into the room.

 

**

 

Ciel was home a little before noon. He’d had some more cake, a little more tea, then he had tried to flag a taxi which turned out to be harder than he had expected. He’d had to walk to the next suburb which was a few miles away from the manor, but he had enjoyed the fresh air on his skin once the sun had come up to warm it a bit. 

There was an unfamiliar car in front of the townhouse which made him frown, paying the cabbie and walking up to the front door. His mother wouldn’t be home during this time of day and the servants knew they shouldn’t let anyone in if no one was home.

He was right to be wary. Once he had unlocked the door, young Finny rushed towards him, flushed and bewildered. “Master, he just…well…we couldn’t stop him”, he pointed towards the study. Ciel frowned. “It’s fine, Finny…you can go get groceries now, I’ll take it from here.” 

Sending Finny away proved to be a mistake. Upon entering his study, his pleasant, calm mood turned sour very quickly; Aleister Chambers, the Viscount Druitt sat behind his desk, one of his sketches held up so he could read it. The blond was clad in all white, as usual. Coming from the shadows, the brightness hurt Ciel’s eyes. 

Druitt’s eyes flicked up to him when he entered and the man smiled. “Ah, my sweet love.”

“Cut the crap, Druitt, you don’t even know me. And get up from my chair.” The blond clicked his tongue in distaste, his pleasant, jovial demeanor changing very quickly. “You’re a dreadful little bitch, aren’t you?”

For a moment, Ciel was so shocked he couldn’t reply right away. Not just the words, but the stinging malice in Druitt’s voice took his breath away; he hadn’t ever been approached like this before and he wasn’t sure how to react. But Druitt was far from done yet, gaining steam as Ciel gaped at him. “Close your mouth, you look like you want to catch flies. You’re pretty enough if you keep your trap shut, I suppose, so this deal won’t be entirely useless to me.” He got up and came around the desk, the piece of paper tossed onto the floor without regard. It fluttered to the carpet like a wounded ghost, face down. Druitt’s next step placed his shoe firmly atop it. Anger flared in Ciel like a struck match. “Get the hell out of my house. Now. Whatever deal you have with my family, it’s off.”

The hand grasping his jaw was entirely unwelcome, long, thin fingers digging into his cheeks on either side. Faintly, Ciel remembered the demon had grasped him the same way upon their first meet, and while it had stung the same, he hadn’t been scared.

This was terrifying him. And he deeply regretted having sent Finny away, because now he was alone in the house with this man.

His first impulse was fight the hold; he swatted hard at the hand, breaking the hold, but Druitt’s nails raked across his cheek and left two scratches that immediately began bleeding lightly. “Ugh, disgusting”, Druitt sneered, looking at the slight gore beneath the nail of his middle finger. The same hand he used to backhand the slate-haired boy so firm and sudden that Ciel stumbled back against the doorframe. “Pretentious cunt”, Druitt snarled, hand gripping the soft dark hair. He dragged Ciel over to the desk and tossed him against it, the boy’s delicate hands shooting out to catch himself; a soft, pained sound escaped Ciel when the desk’s edge dug into his stomach. Panic skittered across his skin when Druitt followed him and the slightly taller body pressed up against his. “I know exactly what you need to find your place.” Rough hands grabbed Ciel’s slight hips and yanked them back. “Don’t worry, you’ll like it. Eventually, I guess.”

A hard smack rang out when Ciel squirmed to get away, scrabbling at the desk, and the blond spanked him. Even through the fabric of his pants, it stung fiercely. “Stop..!”

“I don’t think so”, Druitt snarled, yanking at his pants. The button popped and was lost on the carpet beneath the desk. Ciel was speechless with dread, even as his pants breached the soft, pale round of his ass, which was promptly spanked again. He jumped with a yelp, struggles frantic. Druitt grasped his hair, pushing his face down against the papers. Just in front of Ciel’s eye, the rabbit in a waistcoat he had drawn stared back at him, impassively. His cheek stung where it had smacked against the hard wood. “Stop it, don’t touch me!”

“I’m touching you already”, the blond mocked him, looking over the slender body he held down. Ciel was almost petite, cream pale skin, a wonderful, seemingly fragile bone structure. “Maybe you’re good for something, after all.” Out of sheer frustration, Druitt hit the boy’s other cheek, watching the rosy flush bloom on the enticing round. The sound the kid made was just precious, too. He put a fingertip against the tight rosy hole between the cheeks, digging in cruelly.

Ciel screamed. Druitt hesitated at a sound like a growl laced in with the yell, but as soon as the scream died to a whimper, so did the menacing undertone. It didn’t seem to have come from the Phantomhive brat, after all; maybe he had imagined it. Druitt used the hooked in finger to pull at the tight muscle, forcing it open. “Look”, he told the boy, patting the side of his hip with his free hand, in what was supposed to be a mollifying gesture. “We’re going to be married whether you want to or not, better get used to being fucked early. I’m not missing out because my little wife is a fucking prude.”

Ciel’s nails dug into the papers he was laying on. The words hurt in a deep, primal way that felt entirely unjust; the whole situation made him angry. The paper sheets gave under the pull of his nails and fingers. He gritted his teeth and put renewed vigor into his struggles.

It kept Druitt, at least, from entering him fully. His thin fingers pushed into the small orifice violently, but the tightness he hadn’t bothered to properly relax and the boy’s incessant squirming made it impossible for his cock to get inside once it had been freed from his pants. The blunt, wet head pushed against the silken skin uselessly; both men were angered now for different reasons. The blond, however, was content to just abuse the soft, pale skin – the moment the hot spill ran over Ciel’s ass, dripping down his thighs and into his rucked down pants, burning like acid, his head was smacked into the wood of the table again. 

Darkness licked at the edges of his vision, taking over within moments.

 

**

 

Ciel awoke to the scent of dust and old sheets. His entire body ached, from the dull pounding in his head and the tightness in his nape and shoulders to the sharp sting of his behind when he moved. He sat up; settled in a bed, the room was wholly unfamiliar at first. Only the faint tang of smoke burned deep into old wood returned him his bearing – this was the master bedroom at the manor. 

How?

Before he’d blacked out, he’d been in his office and – the thought was too painful, too shameful to finish, even in the privacy of his mind. He wrinkled his nose, shook his head which erupted another bout of angry pounding, and slid his legs over the edge of the bed carefully. There was a long, high mirror set into one corner of the room, previously used so his mother could look over her outfit fully once more before heading out. It was covered with a sheet that was blackened and frayed but fell easily enough when Ciel tugged at it, having crossed the room. His feet were bare, legs too, clad in a button-down shirt that almost reached his knees. Three buttons were closed at the front and with a deep breath, he opened them, letting the shirt fall open. 

There were dark bruises curling around his neck, his temple and right eye, hand-shaped on his hips and waist, everywhere he’d been grabbed and manhandled. Ciel bit his teeth together so hard the muscles in his jaw locked painfully. The shame was replaced by a deep, dark fury that burned hotter than anything he had encountered before.

“Ruined”, he hissed out, hands clawing the edges of the shirt he’d held open.

“Perfect”, came a soft purr from the direction of the bed. 

Ciel yanked the shirt closed and turned on a bare heel to regard the demon lounging on the bed he’d been in a moment before; he was sure the being hadn’t been in the room, let alone in the same bed as he when he’d awoken. He was not entirely shapeless anymore now; still black, still satin liquidity in the way the shadows curled around him like smoke. But there was definite shape to long legs encased in black leather, heels so high and sharply pointed they could be used for expert lobotomies, arms long and pale, fingers tipped with talons so black they seemed to absorb the light. Elegantly twisted black horns curved back from high temples, the color lost on the background of massive dark wings. The only spot of color where those eyes, the color of hellfire, and the pink of a pointed tongue that slid over too many needle fangs when the infernal being grinned and blatantly ran his gaze over the barely covered young body across the room.

Ciel huffed. “So you do have a body.”

“Did you doubt that?”, the demon chuckled, rising from the bed; he’d been large before, when Ciel couldn’t see, but he was enormous now, looming over the boy like a dark, menacing tower.

With a somewhat sick thrill to his belly, Ciel realized he didn’t fear this monster. He feared the perfectly human, mortal man that would be waiting for him when he got back to the city. “Why am I here?”

“Answering questions with questions is rude, little one”, the demon said matter-of-factly, slinking across the room so he could be closer to him. The taloned hand lifted, touched the bruise on his face light as a feather. “So young, so broken…you have never been more beautiful, my lamb.”

Impatiently, Ciel wiped the hand from his face. “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not”, the demon replied somberly. “I do have a gift for you, though. Follow me. There will be tea.”

“This house has been ruined for a year and I don’t have shoes on. I’m not walking anywhere, where are my clothes?”

Without reply, the demon scooped him up into his arms, Ciel’s knees draped over one elbow, a hand on his hip, one arm steadying his back. He gave a very undignified yelp, mostly in surprise, but his abused body protested the grip as well. Unbidden, his own hand tangled in ravendark hair since he could make out no clothing to hold on to on the demon’s body. Where his skin was exposed, it pressed against cold leather and cool skin. “Don’t do that without warning, you oaf!”, he sputtered, color already coming to his cheeks. The demon chuckled and bent his head to nuzzle at his hair. “Feisty.”

Ciel replied by curling his fingers around one horn and yanked. He was given a nip on the shoulder in return, like a puppy that had become too rowdy with an older dog. Sulking, he settled into the hold, It was better than walking, anyway. 

“So. Why am I here?”

“Because I have a gift for you.”

“Did you bring me here?”

The demon nodded, walking out of the room. His heels clicked sharply on the floor when the rushes and carpets gave way to the bare floor, the fabric burned away by the inferno’s hunger. Their way brought them, once again, into the smaller sitting room they had met in several times now. True to his word, there was steaming tea set on the small round table next to Ciel’s armchair and a plate of delicate macarons. The fire was out. On the thick carpet in front of the fireplace lay Viscount Druitt, bound and gagged, eyes large and darting around in obvious panic.

Ciel was set into the armchair gently, with reverence. His blue eyes were locked on the panicked violet. Looking up at the demon, he curved a brow. “I don’t want this gift.”

“This is not your present, little one. It plays a part in it, however. Are you cold?” Ciel shook his head. Cool to the touch as the demon was, he’d been warmed up in that embrace miraculously, as if hellfire had been put into his chest in a safe little container to heat him from the inside out. 

“Good.” The demon stepped over to the bound body, lifting it by digging his talons into the back of one shoulder until they came out in front. Behind the gag, Druitt screamed as he was lifted as if suspended on a meat hook. “You damaged what is mine, human”, the beast all but cooed at him, terrible teeth a mere inch away from the terrified face. Blood ran down the leather-clad arm in thick rivulets. Ciel couldn’t help but appreciate the aesthetic. He reached for his cup and took a sip, feeling strangely detached from the reality of someone dying over him. 

Wasn’t as if the bastard didn’t deserve it, after all.

The demon went on punishing the man; the punctures through his shoulder were used to rip his left arm from him in a violent yank. The limb was tossed into the fireplace. “You will not have hands to touch him again”, the demon purred. Off went the other arm, joining the first. Blood soaked the carpet as if the fabric had been starved for it. Ciel made a face when the man’s agonized screams became annoying; the demon acted on his mood, curled his talons into Druitt’s throat, and ripped. The arterial spray was strong enough still to spatter Ciel with a fine dust of red, from his bare knee up the front of his shirt and over his neck, jaw and cheek. It narrowly missed his right eye.

He didn’t flinch. 

The demon opened up the ribcage with a sickening, decisive crack. His fingers curled around the frantically beating heart, squeezing until it stopped with a weak flutter.

The rest of the body joined the severed limbs in the fireplace. In the flick of an eye, bright flames enveloped the cooling flesh. The demon lifted his bloodied arm and licked the droplets. “This is your gift, my lamb.”

Ciel set his cup down with fingers that trembled finely. He didn’t say anything as the demon slid over, eyes burning like the fire across the room, and sank to his knees in front of the armchair. Instead of hovering eagerly like the last few times, the beast got nice and close, licking at the drying red on Ciel’s knee before all but snuggling into his lap. The impressive dark body spread his knees, those teeth way too close to his soft, flat belly as the demon nuzzled into his front, arms curling around his middle and forcing his back to arch gently. A silent plead for approval. One of the intricately twisted horns was a hard presence against the lowest bent of his ribcage.

He reached for a macaron with one hand and bit into it. Over the crackling of the flames, the sound his teeth sinking into the perfectly crispy outside was obscenely loud. His free hand reached to touch the dark hair, brushed it back from that terrible, beautiful face. The simple touch became a series of touches, smooth, gentle pets over the horned head and down the back of the demon’s neck.

The demon purred like a large cat.

“It’s stinking up the place even worse than it smelled before”, he replied, in a voice he didn’t recognize as his own at all. The demon chuckled and burrowed deeper into the curve of his front. Ciel’s fingers traced the whorls and curls of one horn all the way to the root. The demon shuddered, hellfire eyes closing. The room immediately seemed a little darker. Ciel rubbed the base of the horn with his fingertips, resulting in a deeper purr.

“Are you a demon or a cat?”, Ciel mused, stroking dark strands behind one perfectly shaped, pointed ear. “Bringing me prey and then demanding affection for ruining the carpet.”

“Some appreciation is in order”, the demon protested in what could only count as an almost sleepy murmur.

“You ripped him apart because you were jealous.”

“Yes.”

“You said I was yours, too.”

He got a nod in return. It made him smile.

“Selfish.”

The demon’s wings fluttered, rising with him when he rose up on his knees so they were face to face, the dark feathered spans wrapping around the armchair fully and overlapping in the back. Ciel found himself enveloped in darkness, only the demon’s glowing eyes shedding some light, hellish as it was. The beast leaned in and licked the blood from his cheek and jaw in a few strokes of his tongue against his skin. Ciel scrunched up his nose. “What, you lick it and it’s yours? That’s your standby?”

Darkness when the demon closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against his. “Yes.”

There were a few beats of silence. “Sebastian.”

The demon made an enquiring sound. “You wanted a name, there you have one.”

Without a word, the demon’s head sank to rest against Ciel’s thin chest. Ciel’s arms wrapped around the being’s neck, his wrists and the backs of his hands brushing against silky feathers and equally silky hair. 

“But seriously, it smells like a barbecue in here. At least open the windows.”


	4. As old as Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a short chapter - but finally with smut :) Enjoy!

„Mother, this is Sebastian Michaelis. He will be living with us for now.“

This was said with such firm conviction that Rachel didn’t even know how to reply. The man that had come home with her only son was tall, devastatingly handsome…and decidedly a little creepy also. He was a spot too pale to be healthy, with dark hair in a sleek tumble around his features, eyes that were the color of dried blood; eyes that lingered on her son for stretches of time that seemed just a tad too long to be appropriate. Ciel had never shown romantic interest in anyone before and still didn’t now, but he had also never brought anyone home with him before. Especially not to stay a while. Maybe the way he had reacted to the engagement to the Viscount had provoked him into finally admitting that he wanted a lover.

Who was she to tell him no, though? Legally, this was Ciel’s house. Vincent had signed over the deed to it to their son when Ciel had moved to the city for educational purposes. They had resided at the manor a majority of the year, so it hadn’t been a big deal…then. Now, Rachel found it hard to stay calm. 

“Ciel”, she addressed him gently. “We will need to talk about this, why don’t we-“

“I’m sorry, mother. We don’t. I made up my mind already.”

Well. All she could do was apologize with a smile and welcome the man into her home.

Ciel could almost feel the smugness coming from the demon in human disguise as he led him up the stairs to the first floor where the bedrooms were located. His mother still used the master bedroom which Ciel had let them keep out of respect to both of them when the townhouse had become his, although Ciel had redecorated his childhood bedroom when he had moved in proper. There had been stars painted on the ceiling, for heaven’s sake. He was seventeen, not seven anymore. Now the room was held in tasteful dark blues and greys, with the walnut wood furniture he favored. He had traded his childhood twin bed against a boxy king size that dwarfed him in just the right way. It was much more tasteful like this. Sebastian took one look at it and huffed amusedly.

“This is your room”, Ciel replied tersely from the other end of the hallway where he had thought to lodge the demon in one of the guest rooms as far away from where his mother slept as possible. The damnable beast had just opened the first door that he could detect Ciel’s scent behind.

“Who says I will not sleep right next to you?”

“I do. Get over here.”

Amusedly, Sebastian sauntered over. “You spoiled little thing”, he cooed when he stopped beside him and leaned down so he could properly look at him. “One would never suspect you being almost broke by all the useless luxury.”

“A bedroom isn’t useless, Sebastian. Do you even sleep?”

“Not usually, no.”

Ciel sighed. “Why share my bed then?”

The smirk that curved Sebastian’s flawless human mouth conveyed all sorts of things, very few of them rated PG. “To watch your precious little face as you sleep, little master, why else?” Ciel huffed, flustered. He was sure the demon didn’t actually want only that and the implication thrilled as well as scared him a little. “And that’s not creepy at all.”

“No”, Sebastian agreed happily. “Not one bit.”

 

**

Sebastian never once used the room Ciel had designated. If he slept, and Ciel was sure he didn’t, it was spread out next to him in Ciel’s bed, as he had announced from the start. Ciel found he didn’t actually mind. It was soothing to have someone next to him – even if that someone was easily able to rip him open to drink down his soul and play with his insides.

More often than not, Ciel woke to the demon curled around him, his body snuggled into the warm embrace with long, firm arms wrapped around him, their legs tangled beneath the sheets. Despite Sebastian’s hungry leers and remarks during the day, this early morning cuddling didn’t feel sexual at all. 

On the third day after Sebastian had moved in, Rachel excused herself to stay with her sister for a while, giving a severe flu as a reason. Ciel was sure it had to do with the strange man in her home, but he accepted it easily. Her worrying had been grating on him.

On the fourth day, Ciel woke to slow nuzzling. Sebastian had his face buried in the back of his neck, rubbing his nose through the soft baby hairs at his hairline and purring whenever Ciel’s body shivered with stimulation. One hand rested on his hip, fingers curled around the delicate bone, his fingertips resting in the hollow beside it – under his pyjama pants, Ciel realized with a sigh. Sebastian was so prone to touching him, it didn’t even make him blush anymore by now. “Good morning.”

“Mm, my lamb awakes.´”, the demon purred, lips brushing against the sensitive back of his neck with the words. Ciel shuddered; the hand on his hip travelled up over his side to cup his ribcage, then down again, slowly. “You’re so sweet and warm and soft when you sleep, I couldn’t resist.”

“Oh now you bother explaining yourself?” Ciel yawned, catching the straying hand and pulled Sebastian’s arm further around him, the offending digits splayed against his chest as he closed his eyes again. Light kisses, tender with affection, were littered against his neck until he pulled up one shoulder against the ticklish feeling. “Mmstop.” The demon chuckled, breath tousling his hair. “Why?”

“It tickles.”

Soft lips found the slight hollow behind his earlobe in yet another kiss. “I do apologize, that was not the intention.” A knee nudged between Ciel’s legs, forcing his way further until he was parted by a thigh high between his. “It was meant to arouse.” That startled Ciel, eyes fluttering open. “Sebastian…”

“Shh. Don’t worry. I’m not as much of a brute as your fellow humans might be.” The hand he had taken hostage escaped Ciel’s grasp with such ease he knew the beast had been humoring him by not moving it before. Quick as a snake, it slid beneath his pyjama top, not bothering with the buttons at all. The warm caress started over his navel, smoothing up and onto his sternum. His pulse sped up. The demon’s mouth curling into a grin against his neck told him just how easily Sebastian felt that, too. "I’m sure you will like it”, he cooed just before his thumb brushed one soft nipple. Ciel’s breath hitched in his throat so suddenly that he felt breathless with the need to cough right after. 

The pad of that thumb, smooth and warm, rubbed circles into the tender nub until it hardened to an almost painful point. When Ciel squirmed, his burgeoning erection brushed the thigh between his legs; he couldn’t help the soft, strangled moan leaving his lips. It was all the encouragement the demon needed, nipping the sensitive curve of his neck where it met his shoulder. A few buttons of his top had come undone by his squirming, so the fabric was easy to nudge away. He was shifted to his cheek came to rest on one bicep, the other hand sliding into the v-neck of his pyjama top to play as well. Ciel was thoroughly caught in the demon’s clutches – and he loved it. Every time Sebastian plucked his nipples it sent an almost electric thrill low into his belly, feeding right into the need between his legs. Before long, his hips were squirming back and forth, dragging his most sensitive spots against the thigh he was riding and pushing his ass back into a thick, firm cock. To his credit, Sebastian did not once push back against the enticing mounds.

The demon’s hand brushed down his stomach again, without detour into his loose pants, fingertips stroking the patch of fine, silvery hair. It left as quickly, lifting so Sebastian could inhale his scent. The action made Ciel laugh breathlessly, caught between arousal and amused disgust. “God, you’re weird.”

“No”, Sebastian purred, wetting his fingers with his tongue. “You’re just too delicious for words.” His hand found its way down again. “I can’t wait to bury my face there and taste you.” His slick fingers wrapped around the boy’s porcelain cock and Ciel moaned, shuddering bodylong. He didn’t even bother keeping his voice down, even though he didn’t know whether the servants were actually here or not. Sebastian’s lips were still close against his ear, brushing the delicate shell. “In fact, I can’t wait to lick you all over.” His hand gave a squeeze around his need, then began stroking it; long, languid strokes that made Ciel’s toes curl. Hot puffs of breath passed his lips, eyes closed and head thrown back against the shoulder behind him. Sebastian was still fondling his nipples, by now dark rose in color and so hard every brush against them tingled in almost pain; Ciel felt his cock drool all over the long fingers gripping him. His hips rocked wantonly, shamelessly fucking the slick grasp. Sebastian ate up his reactions with obvious relish.

When the demon bit the curve of his shoulder, fangs out and breaking his skin, Ciel came with a cry.

He panted as if he’d run a marathon, halflidded eyes dark and hazy, watching Sebastian lift his creamy hand from his bottoms straight to his mouth to lick the digits clean with obvious relish. His eyes were glowing bright magenta, Ciel’s shoulder was bleeding slightly – and Ciel didn’t feel the least bit threatened.

 

**

Getting work done with Sebastian around was close to impossible. A few days after the demon had moved into the townhouse, Ciel sat at his desk, doodling on a few sheets of paper while the world’s most boring phone call went on and on. Across the room, Sebastian sat on the loveseat pushed against one wall next to the broad set of bookshelves, in his perfect human disguise, with one ankle set leisurely on the other knee…and watched him. Ciel was acutely aware of that fact. It was like the man’s russet eyes were twin spots of heat on his body; moving from his face to his hair, to his neck, the collar of his shirt, his hand, back to his lips. Each glide of gaze was intimately felt. Ciel was glad for the sturdy desk between them. “Mhm…yes. I know, of course. Yes. Certainly. Hold on….I’m sorry, there is someone on the other line. I’ll call you back.”

Ciel pushed a few buttons on his phone so he could answer the new call. “Phantomhive.” He listened, his eyes widening. Sebastian shifted, suddenly alert by the young man’s change of mood. “I see…no, I haven’t seen him in a few days. I hardly know him, honestly.” A few beats of silence. “My mother’s idea, yes. No, I didn’t think to go through with it, really. It’s not the 1800s, you know?” Dark blue eyes lifted slowly to meet Sebastian’s. “Sure, I can come in this afternoon. Yes. See you then.” He hung up and took a deep breath, eyes closing. The demon shifted again. “Who was that?”

Ciel looked at him, face pale with dread. “That was Scotland Yard. I was pronounced the prime suspect in the disappearance of Aleister Chamber.” He leaned back into his chair, feeling boneless. “They think I killed him.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support and reviews. I really love discussing with you guys. This story is slowly coming to an end, but don't worry! I already started the first chapter of the next one. And...the plotline for the one after that, so we'll see each other still.

The Scotland Yard station that had called him in was a huge block of a house, several stories high, window next to window. Ciel felt queasy looking at it. 

“You do not have to worry”, the demon said, standing beside him, also glancing at the silvery windows. “There are no remains to be found.” Ciel gave him a sharp, incredulous look. “Don’t say that so loudly, and here of all places!”, he hissed, making a grab for his wrist. Sebastian smiled at him mildly and leaned down to speak into his ear. “No remains, little one. I made sure of it.” Ciel scowled at him. “But the fireplace…there must be some still there.”

“I ate them.”

Ciel groaned and leaned away from him. “You’re disgusting, Sebastian. Seriously. That’s sick.” The demon chuckled, looking like the cat that had found a canary drowning in cream. He followed when Ciel took a deep breath, but on a concerned mien, and walked briskly into the building. The secretary at the reception desk pointed him into the right direction, yet Sebastian had to stay in the foyer since he hadn’t been invited. Ciel scowled when he noticed that the damned beast was quite happy staying behind and distracting the pretty young woman from her work.

Bloody demon.

He gently knocked on the door that bore the right number, silently praying he wouldn’t be assigned to Commissioner Randall. The gruff man had been sent to figure out whether the fire in his home had been arson – or worse still, insurance fraud – and Ciel hadn’t appreciated the doubt towards his family name one bit. Apparently there had been a generations-long feud between the Phantomhives and the Randalls but no one could tell him any details; just that both families had been employed by the crown at some point and had regularly butted heads. Ciel could definitely see why. The man was like a bulldog; once he had sunk his teeth into something, it was impossible to make him let go of it, and Randall had been determined to discredit the Phantomhives. It had worked to a degree, Funtom’s sales had dropped alarmingly after Randall had given his official statement. Ciel could easily say he hated the man.

Fortunately for him, the man who bid him in wasn’t Commissioner Randall, but a younger man in his thirties with curly, reddish-brown hair and warm brown eyes. The kind of man that would look at Ciel, with his petite frame, large eyes and all of seventeen years to himself and be willing to allow him some slack out of pity.

Ciel didn’t like to be pitied, but he would ‘t like going to jail for murdering a man, despicable as he had been, so he could work with this. 

Officer Frederick Abberline, the name plaque on his desk read as the man rose and came around to shake his hand. “Mr. Phantomhive, please have a seat. I’m sorry this was on such short notice. I hope we didn’t inconvenience you too greatly.” Ciel had to keep himself from smiling. Whereas Randall would have griped at him for taking more than half an hour from his home down to the station, this one even apologized for inconveniencing him.

Ciel put on a wavery smile and sat down. “I’m not quite sure why you did ask me all the way down here, really. Did something happen to Aleister?” Always the concerned friend. That was a good front to have. Abberline smiled at him lightly and sat down behind his desk again, pulling a manila folder towards him to flip it open. “Well, he hasn’t been heard from in a while. We received the info that you were the last person he went to see. You’re engaged, as I understand it?” 

Ciel sighed and waved a hand. “Stupid rumors, I’m afraid. No. Aleister and I didn’t even know each other that well. You know how some parents create an online dating account for their kids? I’m afraid it’s a little different for nobility, as antiqued as that class system is by now. My mother was looking for a suitable match for me and found a willing one. That doesn’t mean we were engaged at all.”

“So you and Mr. Crowley didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”, Ciel asked with wide eyes. Abberline flushed a little. “Nevermind. So no official engagement. I have sources claiming you were angry when it was announced, ran away from your uncle and aunt’s house.” Ciel smiled a little again. “And here I thought that was supposed to be a quiet family dinner. Yes, I was shocked, I had had no idea beforehand. And I was a little angry, I suppose, that my mother took it upon herself to decree that match official when she didn’t even ask me. Or tell me about her plans, at all.”

“Were you angry at Mr. Crowley?”

“Of course not. He took the offer, probably didn’t even know I was not okay with it. He came to my office one time after that, I told him I wasn’t interested and sorry he had been led on like this.”

“I have sources stating he was rough with you that day.”

Ciel rose his brows, fighting hard to keep his expressions in check. It wouldn’t do to admit to his almost-rape. The bruises had faded from his skin already, replaced by marks Sebastian had left, yes, but otherwise he was pristine. There had been no tearing in his nether regions that might conclude a rape. It was as if it never happened. Ever. “Some sources. No. He was angry, understandably, and grabbed me by the arm in a spur of the moment thing, but I told him I didn’t want to see him again and asked him to leave. As I said, we weren’t close before and we never will be.”

“That sounds a little final.” There was a beat of silence in which Ciel realized the small mistake he had made. He smiled ruefully, looking down. “Officer, Aleister and I….surely, we knew each other. He’s a few years my senior, but we went to the same school, ran in the same society circles. We never got along; we’re too different.”

“Ran?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said ran….ran in the same circles. Past tense.”

Oh god please don’t make me flush right now.

“I don’t intend to do so any more. I’m too busy trying to keep my business alive than go to parties and balls. If you believe the press, and you can, I’m floundering with my new responsibilities. I’m afraid I’m not doing a very good job yet.” Good save. The frisson of tension in Abberline’s face softened. “I see. So there was no more contact after that day?”

“None. I do know however that it isn’t unlike Aleister to just run off for a few weeks. He’s probably in the Caribbean, enjoying the sun.”

It felt like a wretched weight had been taken off of his shoulders when Ciel exited the office and went back down to the lobby. His mood soured when he saw Sebastian still happily flirting with the receptionist. “Sebastian!” The demon looked up, still smiling that fake human smile…his eyes flashed red when they came to rest on Ciel, the smile turning leery. “There you are. You okay?” Ciel nodded as the other came towards him, the woman all but forgotten. Sebastian stopped in front of him and reached a hand to stroke his cheek as if to confirm his wellbeing. Ciel smiled lightly, pushing the hand away. “I’m done here. Come on, let’s go home.”

**

Why the bloody demon was just so happy distracting him from work, Ciel would never figure out. He groaned and slammed his pen down for the hundredth time that day when Sebastian casually walked by the office again, peeking inside curiously. “Is there anything you need?”, Ciel asked with as much control over himself as he could. The demon grinned, exposing sharp teeth. Although the servants were back in the house, happily bustling around their mundane tasks, Rachel had not yet returned. Small graces.

“I am a bit peckish. I haven’t had any nourishment since your fiancé’s untimely demise”, Sebastian purred back at him.

“So eat something. There’s brisket, I believe. And cake. You made more cakes than I could eat in a month.” Exaggeration, of course. Whatever Sebastian whipped up, Ciel finished within the day. He expected to burst his pants and vest soon, in truth, with how he gorged himself on the sweets. Curse the beast for being so damned perfect. Most of the recipes were used for the new line of products Ciel planned; Victorian ways were still very popular, there were café’s in that theme, parties, small costume shops sprouted like weeds. Cooled, ready-made pastries seemed the way to go. So far, the market studies showed great potential in this regard. An improved line of small sweets was the next; lollipops, hard candy, toffees. Ciel was almost giddy with excitement. He took a cookie from the plate on his desk and bit into it. “Yum.”

“Human food is of no concern to me. It tastes like dust.”

“No it doesn’t. Don’t be so picky.”

“Little one”, Sebastian cooed, stepping inside the office and closing the door behind him. Slow, deliberate steps brought him close to the desk. “What I need is fresh blood, essence teeming with soul – humans.” Ciel rose his brows. “You want me to find you victims you can suck dry? Really? I literally just got out of a murder investigation.” Sebastian came around, his hands sliding onto Ciel’s shoulders. “If you’d allow me just a sip…” He leaned down to put his lips against the exposed side of the boy’s neck, mouthing the paperthin skin. Ciel jerked away. “Every time you do that I need a nap. I have to work.” He waved him away; the demon chuckled and crouched by his armrest. “Your soul isn’t only in your blood, sweet lamb. I can make this enjoyable for us both.”

Intrigued, Ciel noticed how close Sebastian suddenly was to his lap. How slickly his hand brushed up onto his thigh and squeezed; for once, they were of the same mind. “Alright. As long as you’ll let me work after; there’s a business meeting at three, I don’t want to miss it due to drowsiness.”

“I will leave you refreshed and relaxed, my dear little one”, the demon promised, sliding under the desk quick as a flash. Ciel bit his lower lip, idly doodling on a sheet of paper on the desk as his pants were undone by skilled fingers, black nails catching the light. For a moment, they were all Ciel could see in the relative darkness under his desk, then Sebastian’s raven-dark hair came into view, tousled over his pale forehead, lips brushing up along his thigh and right onto the bulge forming in his lap. Ciel groaned quietly, fingers tightening around the pen he gripped. The demon’s mouth was pure sin, licking at the fabric of his underwear until it was wet and clinging to his cock. One black nail sharpened into a talon that sliced the thin fabric apart, setting him free.

Ciel had to snicker as without the pressure keeping it close against his belly, his engorged cock slapped Sebastian right in the face. “That’s a good look for you.”

The demon growled at him, but playfully, fingers curling around the base of Ciel’s cock; slender, pale, the head blushing rosy. Ciel didn’t think much of it, even less so compared to the form Sebastian had chosen in his human body; quite a bit longer than his, twice as thick, veins he really liked to trace with his tongue because it made the demon purr and tremble and…oh.

Hot, wet velvet descended over the needy head of his cock and Ciel let his head drop back against the backrest of his armchair. The beast hummed as soft, cruelly cut lips sucked and kissed at the tip, frenching it lewdly, tongue wiggling against the sensitive slit. Ciel squirmed with a soft mewl at the insistent prodding. The demon replied by pressing his forearm down over his hips and lower belly, effectively pinning him to his seat with no wiggle room.

Ciel’s blood pressure shot up considerably.

The demon seemed to like the throbbing in the organ he had captured between his lips, chasing it with his tongue, all the while lapping up the sweet droplets of honey drooling from that precious little slit. Slender fingers dove into dark hair and gripped his head; just like the brat, if he couldn’t move his hips and fuck the teasing mouth, he’d grab the head to force him to. It made Sebastian smile. Then he sank his mouth down to the base, tongue wrapping around the porcelain stem. The exquisite taste of Ciel’s soul was laced in the nectar he sucked down, making his eyes glow magenta under his lashes. He barely kept himself from allowing his fangs free reign and ripping the delicious thing apart, find the precious center, drink him dry, bathe in his blood…

Ciel yanked at his hair and whined, his cock kicking in his mouth. Slow and languid, Sebastian slipped from his prize; quick, deft fingers ripped the boy’s pants and underwear apart right in the middle. His mouth, wet with spit, caressed tight balls, his tongue escaping to lick just behind. A strangled mewl was his reward, morphing into a long, breathy moan the moment the wet muscle made contact with the quivering little hole between high, round cheeks. Ciel felt breathless; the demon’s tongue stroked at his very core, teased the tight ring into a fake sense of security before spearing inside. A startled gasp – but it didn’t hurt, that tongue much softer and pliable than fingers, more wet, moving in and out easily, so easily….and so deep, Ciel didn’t think it would reach so deep…

The moment the demon’s tongue, elongated for the boy’s enjoyment of course, reached his inner sweet spot and started stroking it, Ciel’s thighs clamped firmly around Sebastian’s head, spurts of creamy cum splattering all over his front, staining his lower belly, his shirt. One rope landed on his cheek. Sebastian looked up at him with such hunger that Ciel wiped the sticky fluid off his cheek and offered the demon his fingers.

They were promptly licked clean. Then the demon went for seconds.

**

He was indeed relaxed, damn that beast to hell and back. Ciel didn’t want to admit it at all. 

Sebastian sat by his side in the conference room of the Funtom headquarters in London where he’d been given the spot at the head of the table – a move that Ciel found patronizing. Obviously none of these men and women, people who had willingly watched how his ancestors’ enterprise receded and crumbled. Probably lining their own pockets as much as they could.

Ciel was aware how this would look to them; a teen trying to live up to his family name, untried in business, easily overruled.

He nipped that one right in the bud.

“I don’t think these numbers are quite correct – in fact, I am well aware they are not. These are the sales of 2003, when the Bitter Rabbit plush was introduced.”

There was silence around the table. 

“Also, I am well aware our sales have receded to almost a third of what that toy made us. Can you explain to me the countermeasures you will be taking?”

“Counter…measures? Sir?”, asked a tall, brunet man with striking green eyes framed by glasses.

“Countermeasures, Spears. Yes. Unless you all want to be out on your asses by the time the year is out.” Ciel held up a hand when the people here looked as if they wanted to protest. “Let me rephrase. Most of you will be fired. I hold the shares to this company and I am not quite so willing to see it close; not just because that would cost me millions, but because this company was founded by my great-grandfather and maintained by members of my family ever since. I would do them poor justice if I let you destroy what they have built.”

The members of the board glanced at each other uneasily. “Ciel…”

“That’s Mr. Phantomhive to you.”, Ciel replied coolly. Sebastian smirked, silently, fixing the man that had spoken up with hard garnet eyes. The man – a Mr. Kelvin, heavyset, with a thick moustache and glasses – sank back into his chair, defeated. “I apologize. Mr. Phantomhive, sir, I am sure some mistakes have been made-“

“I don’t want to be placated. I want results. If you are willing to work with me on this, you may hand in your ideas for keeping the ruin from our door until the end of the week. If not…” Ciel smiled, a tyrant’s cold grimace, “you may best be suited elsewhere.”

**

“That was a impressive, young master Phantomhive”, Sebastian said amusedly when they were in the car that would drive them back to the townhouse. Ciel looked at him thoughtfully. “Was it? What if they leave?”

“Then they will leave and your board will have open seats for members that are more honest in their approach to work.”

“If you’re still hungry, you can go and tear that Spears asshole a new one if you want. I won’t miss him one bit.”

Sebastian’s smile was all sulfur. “Little one, I would be pleased to serve you fully…if your formidable soul is the reward for it in the end.” Ciel barked a laugh. “You’re mad if you think I’ll let you own my soul.”

The demon chuckled. “I might leave if you don’t agree.”

Ciel smiled slowly, cupping the demon’s chin and leaned in, his soft lips against the smirking mouth, kissing him almost tenderly.

“No you won’t.”


	6. Beauty of the Beast

„Ah! Oh pl….mm…yes…!“ The sounds the slender young man made were muffled each time he buried his face into his sheets or bit them. His cheeks were bright red, fine dark hair sticking to his temples and the back of his neck, knees rubbing raw even though his sheets were soft and smooth with a high thread count. It didn’t seem to matter one bit. Sparks of ecstasy shot through his whole body each time the man poised behind him pushed especially deep, as if his soul was nudged with pure light each thrust.

He was being awfully sappy in his head while his body was brought to the very brink of euphoria.

 

And stopped there. Sebastian chuckled behind him, that nervewracking sound that always seemed as if Ciel had amused him in some way; he probably had. Lips dusted against his damp shoulders, delicately licking the sheen of saltiness from the cream pale skin. With his cock deep inside the snug channel, the demon lightly rolled his hips as if to map the boy’s insides. Ciel whined, fisting the dustblue sheets he was perched on knees and elbows on. Sebastian bent all the way over him, blanketing him with his larger body, seemingly unaffected by the pleasure crackling like lightning between them. “Not yet”, he cooed into a flushed little ear, tongue flicking against the lapis piercing stabbing the soft lobe. Another whine was his reward, thin hips trying to push back against him. Sebastian retaliated by leaning back and dragging his tongue up the gentle dip of Ciel’s spine, from the hollow just above his buttocks to the nape of his neck. Once there, he took the slender thing between his teeth and gave one hard, full thrust.

Ciel screamed into his pillow, staining the rucked sheets beneath him. Not allowing him to rest, Sebastian drew out of his body with a wet sound, hands grasping Ciel’s hips so the boy wouldn’t sag down onto the mattress. Both thumbs dragged the flushed cheeks apart to expose the little hole that had sheathed him a moment ago; it was perfectly plush and pink, throbbing with the long moments Sebastian had spent licking and nibbling and massaging it into submission before he had scissored the boy open enough to take his cock, drilling him deep and so hard his round little ass was pink where it had smacked into his pelvis repeatedly. It was an enticing sight. 

Sebastian grinned when the little mortal groaned and tried to wiggle out of his grasp, holding firm. He bent his dark head and brushed his lips against the gaping little nether mouth like would with Ciel’s face when he was feeling exceptionally cuddly; it twitched against the tickle. “You are complete perfection”, he told the boy with his mouth moving against the snug little hole, licking inside it once to taste the scent he had left there. This was his. All of the boy belonged to him. Ciel hadn’t admitted to offering his soul, yes, but Sebastian knew it was his already. He could taste it with every beat of the boy’s heart. 

Ducking, he took the inside of one trembling thigh between his teeth and applied pressure. Not enough to actually hurt the boy, but hard enough to leave a bruise, especially when he sucked the creamy pale skin until it turned red, then purple and wouldn’t go back to their ivory for days. He liked those marks best.

Ciel groaned again and flopped to the side, out of Sebastian’s grip, then rolled onto his back, forcing the demon to lean back for a moment before diving back in. Parting the slender thighs, he took a moment to appreciate the sight before him while guiding his needy cock up against the pretty ass again. Ciel’s eyes were halflidded, lips pink and parted around his gasps, his nipples the same color. Despite having just come, his cock was at attention again, ropes and flecks of cum on his belly and hips, glittering like liquid diamonds in the early morning light.

Sebastian grinned with his demon mouth and drove back inside with more force than necessary if only to see the svelte body arch up against his. “Mine”, he purred, dotting kisses over a thin, heaving chest. Ciel didn’t reply, tangling his fingers in ravendark hair instead. His legs wound around the taller’s middle, a new round initiated.

Ciel appreciated the sight above him the same as the demon did. Sebastian’s chosen human form was eye candy if there ever was such a thing; slim but strong, he came off elegant in clothing and without. As pale as Ciel, maybe a shade paler still, chiseled as if he was an ancient Greek statue come to life. Watching him work and move between his legs was a heady experience. His eyes glowed bright magenta, the pupils slitted but blown wide in pleasure as they looked up into his face, mouth at his chest. Ciel reached to cup the demon’s cheeks and pull him up for a kiss, deep, open-mouthed, a spur of the moment thing that needed to be done even if Sebastian’s mouth had just been elsewhere on his body. His whole frame was trembling. 

Sebastian growled against his skin, tongue deep in Ciel’s mouth and claiming the cavern as he came in thick, hot pulses that seared the boy’s insides so sudden that he cried out, throwing his head back into the pillows. The beast mouthed and nuzzled his throat as he filled him to the brim – and had the gall to stay lodged inside of him if only to keep his seed inside the body he had just made his. Again. It wasn’t like they didn’t do this frequently after all.

Ciel groaned and squirmed a little but only got as far as the demon curling into and around him, ignoring the fact that their bodies were slick with sweat and other fluids and Ciel would much rather shower as soon as he could feel his legs again. Sebastian preferred pressing up against him so he could rub his scent all over the boy. Ciel found that a little gross, but the demon was so content with doing it he didn’t have the heart to tell him not to do it. He sank down into his now damp bed and let the beast hold him. 

It had been half a year since his mother had tried to ruin his life, almost successfully. Half a year since he had found there was a demon living in his burned and ruined house. Six months in which his life had been turned around so completely he didn’t even know if this was all just a dream or not. The company was doing well, sales were going up. Not a day passed without Funtom making the news, whether it was a new pastry or confectionary on the market to feed the ever-growing demand for the elaborately decorated, delicious tartes and pies and gateaux, cookies and candy and lollipops from Sebastian’s inexhaustible supply of recipes or an article on Ciel himself; not a day passed without some reporter trying to glean an interview from him, either. It had become such a nuisance after only four months of the new line of products having been launched that Ciel had been forced to abandon London town. His mother was very happy living in the townhouse, close to her sister and friends, and Ciel was happy for his calm environment – the left wing of the manor had already been renovated and cleaned. The construction workers would continue on the right side of the building in half an hour, Ciel realized with a glance at the alarm clock.

Good thing they had finished early this morning.

Sebastian was relentless in the morning; whipping Ciel into an aroused frenzy was his favorite way of waking the boy up as soon as the sun crept over the horizon. Come to think of it, Ciel hadn’t had to use the alarm clock once in the two months living here. He stretched and yawned, dislodging Sebastian’s cock inside him, which made the demon grumble and nip at his shoulder. “Stop that, you’re not a puppy.”, Ciel sighed, nudging at the beast. “Although, come to think of it….I did name you after the dog I had when I was little.”

“Excuse me you did what?!”

Ciel snickered and escaped the demon’s grasp, slipping from the bed and heading to the bathroom, buck naked and unashamed by it. The servants would be downstairs now; Finny in the garden, which he loved so much he was allowed to tend to it – under the very watchful eye of Sebastian, so he wouldn’t damage any of the plants they had planted together. Mey-Rin would try her hand at making breakfast, as Baldroy would be down at the main gate to let the construction crew in. Ciel planned to have modern electronics laid into the whole house – wi-fi, monitors for the main gate, higher fences around the perimeter, although as even the basic landlines and cables and outlets had to be replaced in a house this old and damaged, full renovation would have to wait for a while. As long as he could work, he was happy.

As long as Sebastian was with him…

Ciel sighed and leaned his forehead against the shower wall, warm water raining down on him with perfect pressure. He wasn’t sure why the demon stuck around…sure, Ciel fed him, and like a stray Sebastian stayed where there was food. They had been hunting a few times by now, trespassers that had come close to the manor upon hearing it was being rebuilt and hoping they could loot before security was tightened again. Ciel wasn’t even sickened by the sight of blood and severed limbs anymore, or the fact that Sebastian really, really enjoyed bone marrow. The disgusting cracking sounds sometimes wouldn’t leave his mind, but he didn’t feel the need to throw up anymore whenever he did it. One time, they had hunted down one of his board members, the tall brunet four-eyed one that had kept bitching and opposing his every step. Ciel really couldn’t be bothered by trivialities such as finding a legal way to get rid of him. He had much too much to do.

They worked well together. They got along well. The sex was spectacular and Sebastian beat any kind of modern security. But…why did he stay, really? Ciel was sure one of these days, Sebastian would get bored. Bored with sitting on the floor of Ciel’s office and having his hair stroked while Ciel tapped into the well of creativity inside him. Bored with always the same body, night after night. Bored with a mere mortal mind to intrigue him. Ciel wasn’t sure he would be able to bear Sebastian leaving him.

Half a year and the demon had become such a steady presence in his life that these six months seemed to be first ones in all his lifespan to be fully colored. Fully scented. If the beast should leave – everything would be grey and wrapped in cotton once more. 

Ciel shook his head. He couldn’t allow that to happen. But how long would Sebastian still stand by him, stay with him, if there was no greater reward to be had at the end? He knew well that the demon lusted after his soul.

Ciel wasn’t overly religious. In fact, he ignored religion in his day-to-day life, unless you counted capitalism as one. As a businessman, money was his god.

No. Not money. 

Sebastian was the central point of his life and mind. 

With a sigh, he scrubbed down in determination, got dry, got dressed. By the time he was back in the bedroom, Sebastian had managed to make something out of what Mey-Rin had brought up, had reassured the scatterbrained redhead that it looked delicious beforehand of course, had prepared proper tea. He was resplendent in the morning light. Ciel made up his mind. “Sebastian.”

The demon glanced at him. “Mm, you washed. Why?” The slate-haired boy chuckled and shook his head. “Because I smelled?”

“Like me, yes. Perfectly preferable. Here, sit. Have food.” Sebastian didn’t eat human food, of course, but none of the staff knew exactly what he was. He was capable, he was the young Master’s lover, he was kind to them. It took no more than that to make them adore him. 

A kiss was dropped onto his hair as Ciel sat, making him smile. “Attempting to human again?”

“Always. It seems to please you.”

“Indeed….”, he replied softly. Sebastian looked like a vision against the morning sun. It would turn out to be one of those days of bright sunshine without fog clinging to the ferns on the ground, a rare thing in the countryside surrounding London.

From downstairs, there was a loud crash, followed by a wail. Sebastian sighed. “Excuse me…”

Ciel was left to enjoy his cup of Earl Grey and the scones Mey-Rin had found, made the day before by Sebastian. When he joined them downstairs, the mess was fixed; Mey-Rin had run into one of the construction workers and buried the poor man beneath the mountain of clean sheets she had folded in the laundry room and attempted to carry up the stairs in one go. The front door was open, allowing sunlight to fall across the freshly put down floor; firm and try but not cleaned yet. Ciel stepped over the biggest mounds of sawdust and dirt on his way to the door, nodding at workers in greeting. He had chosen hardwood flooring for the foyer, which he liked better than the cold, hard black and white checkered tiles that had been there before. He remembered the dreadful cracks in them before they had been pulled up.

The rooms on the left side of the manor hadn’t been damaged so much that they had to be pulled up new again; they had been renovated, the wall drapings fixed, the furniture made up, the style kept clean Victorian as it had been before. The bedrooms and guest rooms would stay the same as well, albeit cleaned and made up. The right side of the building, Ciel planned to have modernized. He especially wanted a proper living room; the sitting rooms felt too stuffy for his tastes, though they regularly impressed guests. As the right side of the building had been blackened and crumbled beyond saving, all his wishes and suggestions would become reality. And he even had the money to pay for everything, easily. Funtom had convalesced that well.

He found Sebastian on the front steps, talking to the foreman of the construction crew. Ciel greeted the man, who disappeared inside after a few words, leaving them there. Ciel hopped down a few steps to stand level with Sebastian, turning to look at the manor gleaming in the morning sun. “The cleaned roof looks good”, he said. Sebastian nodded, his garnet gaze on the diminutive form next to his. “You know, I couldn’t have done any of this without you”, Ciel continued, gaze running across the peaks and bricks, head tipped back. “I would be married to Druitt by now, leeching his funds to attempt to save a business that was on the brink of destruction.” Sebastian nodded softly. “Yes, little one.” He didn’t say any more.

Ciel looked up at him now, words halting in his throat. His tongue felt too heavy. “I…I want you to stay.” Sebastian looked a tad confused. “I want to stay as well, little lamb. Did you think I would leave you?” The boy nodded softly.

“You have done so much for me, and I have given you close to nothing in return”, he sighed softly, holding up a hand to stop him from speaking just now. “I want to give you something of the same significance.” The demon was silently alert, watching him attentively without moving a muscle. “I want to be yours.” A small nod. “Always. I mean, forever.”

“Forever is a long, long time, little one. Especially when you’re as old as I am.”

“I know my life won’t be as long as yours, but…as long as it lasts….and beyond, I want to be with you.”

Realization dawned on Sebastian’s face and his eyes flashed deep red in reaction. “Do you know what you are offering me? What you ask for?” He lifted a hand to stroke Ciel’s cheek like he had done when they had first met, cupping the soft round, thumb brushing beneath one big, blue eye. “You won’t enter heaven or hell. You will be forsaken.”

“I will be yours.” 

The demon nodded. “Yes. As long as you live, and after, you will be a part of me.”

Ciel smiled up at him lightly. “I already am a part of you”, he replied quietly. “As you are everything to me.”

Without another word, Sebastian leaned down and kissed him, on the front steps of his renewed manor. Lips moving against soft lips, the sound of men laughing and talking and hammers and construction and everyone else drowned out. Sebastian kissed the closed lid of his right eye, the one his fringe constantly fell over messily, and licked the thin trail of blood that followed from his cheek. Ciel opened his eyes as he drew back, one blurry and the other almost blinded by the bright sunlight.

He could see just as well with the delicately etched circle of stars around his right pupil as with the other, unmarked eye; the same symbol that was on Sebastian’s left hand now as well. One black, one pale silver. 

He had never felt as whole as in this moment, and every moment after.

 

~End~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was it. This is actually the first thing I have finished in what must be years, and I'm pretty happy with it :) I already have the next two plots planned and I like them just as much, even started with one. But Cosplay season starts as well, so the next story (which will be called Apples and Arsenic; can you guess which fairytale I'll be butchering next?) probably won't update as speedy as this one. If you're interested, I lately made a Facebook cosplay page you can visit me on: www.facebook.com/fatgirlcosplay
> 
> And because I love the responses I have gotten to this, I am seriously so grateful, here's a teaser for the next story. Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Run
> 
> Ciel’s breath was hard and burned like fire in his chest.
> 
> Run, Ciel, you have to go
> 
> Gasping for air was loud and painful but he kept on running, sneakers hitting the concrete like claps of thunder.
> 
> She will kill you, Ciel, run
> 
> The maid’s urgent whispers still rang in his ears. It couldn’t be true, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
> 
> RUN!
> 
> He took a left at the end of the driveway and another left turn which would lead him onto the forest path close to the manor. Once he deemed the darkness around him deep enough, he allowed himself to stop, all but collapsing into a bed of ferns, dry heaves shaking his small frame. The cocktail party aunt Ann was throwing was still in full tilt. No one was missing him yet – especially since he wasn’t actually invited to the party. He’d merely used the party as a diversion to flee once Mey-Rin had unlocked the door of his bedroom and ushered him out of the house via the servants’ pathways. He wore shoes and a jacket, a bit of money tucked into the inner pocket. He hadn’t dared to bring his cell phone out of fear Ann could have it traced. He had remembered to bring his inhalator, at least.
> 
> Every rustle made him tense and hold his breath until he was gasping, coughing, fingers scrabbling at the cord around his neck until he could push his inhalator between his lips and inhale, deeply. Immediately, the scratching and squeezing in his chest stopped. Drops of cold sweat ran down his temples and wetted the hair curling around his ears. The moment Ann noticed he was gone, she would send her pet maniac after him. Ciel shuddered at the mere memory of the scarlet haired man. Grell was aloof enough towards him, barely even noticing him usually, but the sight of that shark grin, teeth filed to horrible points was still giving him nightmares. Every cry of an owl now was sounding a lot like the revving of a chainsaw to Ciel, making him duck deeper into his ferns.


End file.
